


Atmosphere

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a lonely teenager gets a crush on one of his big brother's closest friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The physical depictions of Sawtooth and Squarewave are based on some humanized art that's been floating around. Not sure who originally designed them, but credit is due.

Dirk Strider has grown up differently than most kids.

He remembers distant but actual parents being around when he was toddler age, but most of all he remembers Dave. Older than him by ten years, he'd taken the kid under his wing and gotten custody when he could. From what, Dirk's never been sure. Brought up with minimal affection, lots of money and the least-interactive "homeschooling" ever devised by anyone, Dirk's one of the most socially maladjusted people you'd ever meet. 

He's managed to avoid a lot of the pitfalls of growing up mostly alone. He's confident, well-spoken, sharp and aware of himself. He's also pretty fucking baller at rapping.

For this he has to thank what's amounted to a godfather over the past five or so years. A sort of second brother. Dave's never been one to make friends easily, and inside his small circle is a guy Dirk's always known as Sawtooth. 

That's his alias, anyway. For the more informed, the sleeper-hit of a rap artist is also known as Sean.

For as often as Dave's left Dirk alone he's always been concerned about him. Some internal instinct to guard and protect kin that his career won't allow. So for the past almost-sixteen years, Dirk's had a lot of babysitters. Only one's stuck out. Only one of them continues to visit him, continues to provide some socialization, some stimulus outside the Internet.

He goes by Sawtooth and he doesn't care if Dirk calls him by his real name. To most everyone else in the world, Sawtooth is enigmatic, intimidating and a powerful force in the underground hip-hop scene, an adversary slowly but steadily climbing the ranks. To Dirk, he's the guy who's coming over with a fresh two-liter of Orange Crush and 2001: A Space Odyssey.

It's a ritual, a routine Dirk's enjoyed since he was a younger child. Babysitters came and went like flickering images, sparks of recognition in Dirk's life. They did it because Dave paid well. An average night with the sitter of the week involved them helping themselves to the booze and ignoring a ten-year-old Dirk's requests to change the channel to National Geographic or something equally educational. They'd talk loudly on their cellphones and seem irritated when Dirk tried to show them some intricate Lego creation. Dirk had learned quickly that his sitters were more like watchdogs paid to make sure he didn't jump out a window than actual people to interact with.

Except for Sawtooth.

Dave didn't employ the man as often as Dirk would have liked, which would have been every night. Saw was busy establishing himself in a music scene Dirk had vague knowledge of from his brother's eclectic taste. But every time he did, it was something to look forward to. Saw watched documentaries about the Renaissance with him and he wouldn't spend the entire time texting. He nodded in acknowledgment when Dirk explained the inner workings of an aeronautic centrifuge and Dirk could see him trying to follow every word. He knew the kid's favorite food and couldn't cook, so he'd always bring something he'd ordered out over for lunch or dinner.

The tough image he puts out into the scene isn't a farce, though. Dirk knows the man has a heart but he wouldn't call it golden. It's this mix of hardass stature and emotional capacity that's partly shaped the kid into the teenager he is now. Dave's his legal guardian and he's provided Dirk with everything except reliable love. That's become the role for one of his closest friends to fill.

It was probably age thirteen, Dirk thinks as he looks at himself in the mirror, thin pale hands spreading hairspray into his platinum blonde spikes. Thirteen was the age he realized he was attracted to Sawtooth - Sean? Weren't they one in the same? Thirteen, the age he'd watched Saw come into the apartment in a tank top and all he could do was admire the view. 

"Yo, shorty," had come that masculine voice, that voice deep with thug inflection that made Dirk's heart race for just a second. It had been one of the most striking moments of his life. His eyes had traced every contour, noticed every detail. Saw's arms toned from working out but not too much, his skin a perfect tan Dirk could never achieve with his homogeneous white-boy genes, his sunglasses pitch black and obscuring eyes that Dirk knew were hazel. It had hit him all at once in that moment.

Dirk had never really pursued it because he didn't really know how. On that day he started taking advantage of their closeness and familiarity to scoot in close to Saw on the couch, closer than usual until the man was giving him an uncertain chuckle and looking at him in question. Dirk would lean his skinny body against him and smell his cologne, smell the faint traces of cigarettes and pot smoke on his clothes and look up at him in silence.

Mutual silence because Saw was never loud, he wasn't obnoxious like Dirk's other sitters. He was reserved. He still is. You can't call him shy because everything he does is done in quiet self-assurance. It's always reminded Dirk of Dave in some ways.

The next two years was Dirk repeating similar actions. He'd sit close when they watched a movie or played a video game, he'd let Sawtooth guide his hand over a turntable and try to slow his breathing, he'd try to keep his voice steady when they had playful rap battles, he'd hug the man with earnest as he left the apartment. Every touch did nothing to diminish what was a building crush. He'd never seen the inside of Saw's apartment and yet he was convinced he loved him. Still is. 

It's this culmination and impatience that makes Dirk nervous now. He looks at himself in the mirror and picks out his flaws. A zit on his cheek and he doesn't fill out his shirt at all and his hair won't do what he wants it to. It's like he's preparing for a date. Tight clothes and a list of things to say to his babysitter-turned-surrogate brother, flirtatious bullshit that'll probably sound silly if he actually says it. Dirk is almost sixteen. He can't stand this.

Saw's supposed to be there any minute. Dirk heads out of the bathroom and checks his phone for new texts. Nothing, aside from a drunk half-rant from one of his few friends. Online friends. He hasn't told any of them about this growing crush except for one, and she's the only one who's gotten any wind of it. Generally, Dirk doesn't discuss these sorts of things. 

With Roxy, though, only their sibling-like bond was enough to get Dirk to admit his admiration of a man so far out of his league he probably shouldn't even bother with tryouts.

Dirk sits on the couch. He turns the TV on and doesn't see the program, drums his fingers on the arm. Waits and thinks. Every plan he hatches ends up working out and the thought of failure in this instance is enough to make him want to back down. His laptop is sitting warm in one corner of the couch and he slides over to it, flips it open and logs into Pesterchum. The only person he wants to talk to right now is Roxy.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 14:36  
TT: Hey.  
TG: ofmg did u get my txt  
TT: Yeah.  
TT: It was indiscernible.  
TG: lol ok but itqs actally improtant  
TG: important*  
TG: *all those aother ones  
TT: I'll sleuth it out later. Sean's supposed to be here soon.  
TG: o shit  
TG: an youre gonna put the moves on him rite  
TT: I don't know.  
TT: That seems kind of contrived, doesn't it? I'll have to be subtle, yet clear in my intentions.  
TT: One jacked-up oxymoron.  
TG: good tihng ur frens with the smoonthest bitch youd evered seen  
TT: I think you hit triple negatives with that sentence.  
TG: look just dont b a dork  
TG: shwo off ur ass or something  
TG: try 2 unclench it befores you do taht  
TT: "Show off my ass"?  
TT: Alright.  
TT: Sawtooth is basically the antithesis of every rap artist who inundates their songs with lengthy approbation of purely physical attributes, but I'll keep that in mind.  
TG: cool  
TG: man i wish i has a bbysitter as hot as urs  
TT: He hasn't been my sitter for years.  
TG: ok your ADULT COMPTPANION  
TG: (whos hella attarctive but some hows still single)  
TG: remembr that thing i saeid bout loosening your ass a lil  
TT: Hold up, I think he's here.  
TT: Be back later.  
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

The knock wasn't imagined. Sawtooth's on the other side of that front door. He's got Crush and a bag filled with boxes filled with Thai. Currently Dirk's favorite type of food and Saw knows just how big of a deal this is to the kid. Sawtooth's been homies with Dave since he went more commonly by Sean and he knows the guy wasn't made for fame. He's seen him come home too exhausted to pay Dirk any attention, let alone concern himself with what the kid had for dinner - which was previously frozen more often than not. Saw's sure Dave doesn't know what Dirk's favorite kind of anything is. He knows that Dirk likes the fact that there's someone who knows about him and can supply what he likes.

He's also aware that he needs to keep this on the down-low. Earlier he'd been questioned by his roommate, childhood friend and wannabe rap superstar now known in the scene as Squarewave. Square had seemed surprised that Saw was heading over to the Strider residence, something Saw normally didn't broadcast. The image of his friend, his almost-protege confused behind too-big glasses and that goofy backwards hat he always wore as he watched Saw packing the food up, it had almost made him reconsider heading over.

"The dude's big enough to make his own dinner now, right? I mean, shiiiit." And Sawtooth could tell he was chomping at the fucking bit to say more. His eyes had fallen on his roommate like a cannon and the conversation would be over. "He's like my nephew at this point," Saw had said and Square had simply nodded. He was either too respectful or too afraid to keep the subject going - but the implication was obvious. A twenty-six-year-old choosing to hang out with some kid he'd helped watch for five years now, sure, but probably wasn't close enough with to be considered family.

"I get you, dogg! I mean, the Strider pad has to be pretty sweet!" Squarewave had enthusiastically replied, turning back to the TV. 

Sawtooth didn't have to say anything more. He didn't and still doesn't see any reason to break off contact with a kid who is, to be honest, one of the most interesting people he's ever met. 

It's weird to think that about a boy whose hobbies include attempting to build sentient robots for the sole purpose of using them for katana practice, a kid with an inexplicable attachment to puppets and anthropomorphism, kid who can run mental circles around him and has this benevolently manipulative streak that he's caught himself falling into a few times. Dirk isn't the kind of person he interacts with on a day to day basis and yet he's more mature, more intelligent than the majority of egocentric adult children he normally deals with in his growing fame. It's refreshing in a way.

And Dave doesn't mind the fact that he still visits. Dave's cool with Saw showing up whenever he wants just to hang out. Dave thinks it's good for his little brother to get some real life company so it's fine and why the fuck is he standing here trying to justify his actions to himself? 

Dirk opens the door with his trademark not-smile that only shows in his eyes.

"Hey," he says casually and he smells like his brother's Axe. Sawtooth notices this because Dirk never wears cologne. "Thai? You're a boss." Dirk takes the bag and the soda bottle out of Saw's hands and sets them on the kitchen counter. Saw walks in and holds up the DVD copy of 2001 he's brought over. He's old school.

"-- And Kubrick? Awesome." Dirk is pleased with the loot. Saw grins at the boy. It makes Dirk's pulse speed up. "Yeah, since your persistent ass kept wantin' me to watch it." 

Dirk looks smug at the response as he rifles through the bags. "You'll enjoy it." 

Sawtooth can't possibly guess how fucking nervous he is. Dirk is masking it like a pro. 

Saw heads over to the counter to grab his own box before settling on the couch. Dirk takes the time to get them drinks. Orange Crush for himself and Pabst Blue Ribbon for Saw, because somehow the dude likes that stuff. The Striders' fridge is always laughably bare like a testament to irony - food shortage in the house of a world famous director - so Dirk pours himself an extra big glass. 

He comes back to the couch and the coffee table and hands Sawtooth his can. Their fingers brush and it's cliche as hell, but it makes Dirk feel all anxious. "Thanks, kid," Saw says easily. Relaxed. He pops the can open and takes a drink. Dirk stalls, stares at him for drawn-out seconds before he sits down next to him. He realizes he's jostled the DVD case that's been tossed on the cushion and picks it up. 

"I'll put it in," Dirk offers. Saw nods at him as he leans over his food, picking at it with a plastic fork that came pre-packaged. Despite everything, Dirk thinks about what Roxy says as he heads over to the DVD player. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls. 

It's ridiculous but he gives it a shot. On all fours Dirk makes sure to pop his ass out. Clad in form-fitting denim it's definitely a revealing position. Even if he weren't purposely posing, the tightness of the pants would draw attention either way. But it takes just a second or two of curved lower back for Dirk to feel like a try-hard piece of shit. Some stupid tool. This isn't really his thing.

He presses the disc into the player and gets up. Turns around. It's then that his eyes catch Saw's, or what he guesses are his eyes, hidden behind shades as dark as his own. Because the second Dirk's facing him, Sawtooth's tipping his chin back down. Quick enough that Dirk recognizes it as an attempt to look as if he weren't looking and that suddenly that rice is interesting enough to stare at.

Dirk might be reaching but he feels a mild sense of elation. It worked. And Saw must be interested in him if he was looking. Because if he wasn't then he wouldn't have done that. Dirk's sure he has it figured out as he walks back to the couch, somehow plops down gracefully and starts to eat. 

There's an uneasy silence between them as the movie starts that quickly fades. As if both of them are aware of what just happened but aren't going to acknowledge it. Minutes later Dirk is breaking the silence, pointing at the screen with a fork full of noodles and talking about Kubrick's trademark camera style. Sawtooth hears him but just halfway. 

Jesus Christ, he was staring at Dirk's ass. And it wasn't just a passing glance because that shit lingered. He knows it did. Feels like nothing but scum for it.

"Hey, check it out," Dirk says, jabbing his elbow gently into Saw's arm and breaking his thought process. "'Thus Spoke Zarathustra'. Have you heard this tune before?" 

Sawtooth blinks at the boy before he can muster a reply. "Yeah. Been thinkin' about sampling it in one of my newest tracks, actually. Pretty weird coincidence." Dirk is smart and he's not afraid of him. He keeps staring at the man, his eyes traveling from the well-trimmed strip of hair going from lip to chin, to expensive shades dark enough to reflect the TV screen perfectly, to the hood-covered baseball hat he's almost always got on.

"This specific track? Cool." Dirk doesn't break eye contact. "I could recommend you a shit-ton of classical stuff. I mean, it's not my favorite genre or anything, but I get a load sometimes." 

Saw nods at him once. He gives a thumbs-up and then he turns to face the screen again, leaning back down over his food. 

Dirk's still staring at him when he mirrors him and starts eating again. He keeps his gaze, looking at Saw's handsome profile before he focuses on the movie again, shoving a shrimp into his mouth. 

For the rest of the movie Dirk plays commentator while Sawtooth lays back with his arms behind his head, listening to every word. It's easier to converse with Dirk - or let him talk - than keep thinking about what the fuck he did earlier. Halfway through, Saw requests a smoke break. He goes out on the balcony and submerges himself in the cool air, his own Newport. Right when he's about to toss the burning stub off the side he hears the slider open. Dirk's stepping out and looking at him, bare feet on the rough ground and his shirt tight enough to make his perked nipples obvious.

Obvious to a fucking pervert, sure. He saw Dirk two weeks ago and had noticed these things in passing; the fact that he was growing into a young man who'd probably turn out to be a real ladykiller. But he hadn't focused on him like this. Something about Dirk just seems different tonight.

Sawtooth shifts his gaze up to Dirk's face. "You should quit," the kid says, crossing his arms. This is a familiar conversation. "Cigarettes, I mean. Nicotine is a frequent prelude to an impressive menagerie of cancers." 

Saw half-smirks as he flicks the used cigarette into the wind, watching the faint ember die into nothing. "I'm tryin'." Nobody else would tell him to quit. Nobody else would alert him that he'll get cancer. That he might die from it someday. 

Dirk simply backsteps into the apartment again, knowing it's time to continue watching the movie. Sawtooth heads in and takes his place back on the couch. "Where were we, shorty? Last I remember there was this messed robot tryin' to punk on his crew." 

The kid smiles at him. "Actually, HAL isn't a robot. He's artificial intelligence." 

"Same thing. That shit gets implemented in robots."

"You're right in some aspects, but HAL has no robotic form."

The two of them bullshit about computers and robots and other mechanics for awhile. Dirk is far more versed in the subject than Sawtooth is but it doesn't bother him. He feels like he learns something every time they have one of these conversations.

Once the movie's over and interactions have continued on normally, coming to an end with Sawtooth commenting with "holy shit that was a mindfuck," Dirk's realizing it's getting late. Saw will probably be heading home soon. He can't envision his brother coming home anytime soon though, and he suddenly leans his arm back around the couch. Turns his body toward Saw. "Can I try your beer?"

Dirk's too mature for his age and it's always strange when he says something like this. Something that reminds Saw that he's just a kid.

He shakes his head once, looking amused. "Don't think your bro wants me feeding you alcohol." Dirk rolls his eyes. "You're feeding me jack shit. You realize he usually leaves me home alone these days, right?" The statement is like a subtle punch in the face because it's true. Dirk's been too old for a sitter for years but Sawtooth keeps coming over. 

Can't really argue with that. He hands the can over because there's the tiniest amount left. He's a slow drinker. Dirk takes it from him and tips it back. Immediately he makes a face, licking his lips as he keeps the now-empty can in one hand. His mouth touched a place Saw's also touched. In one teenager's mind, this is a sneak peek of intimacy. 

"This is disgusting and you got an iron stomach." Dirk stands up as Saw offers him nothing but that vaguely amused look, standing up. Stretching. He has work tomorrow and should probably get going. "Yeah. Think a prerequisite to enjoyin' the taste of alcohol is a hefty-ass dose of grown up cynicism." Dirk comes back from the kitchen with a little half-smirk of his own as he watches Sawtooth head for the door. 

"I'm gonna bounce. Thanks for schooling me on robotics again," Saw says and Dirk hears, or thinks he hears sincerity in his voice. He's sure it's sincere because Saw's the only one who ever listens to his complicated tangents. Dirk nods at him and approaches him. The hug is expected but the kid is feeling bold tonight. Sawtooth's so tall that Dirk has to stand on his tiptoes to reach his face when he gives him a short kiss on the cheek. 

"Thanks for the food. And the willingness to get schooled." He has to turn around fast so Saw doesn't notice his face heating up. Dirk's walking back to his room and he's leaving behind one confused twenty-six-year old who should know better than to stand there like a soon-to-be boyfriend getting teased by a courtier. He doesn't even know how to respond to that so he stays silent, turns around and makes a hasty exit.

As Sawtooth heads back to his car he's pretty much certain that Dirk's never kissed Dave on the cheek like that. The Striders are the last people to be affectionate. That leaves him wondering what, exactly, Dirk's angle was with that shit he pulled back there. His confusion's turning to anger which turns to muted recognition that he can't be mad. Not at Dirk. At himself, because when Dirk had leaned in close and pressed his lips to his cheekbone, Sawtooth hadn't been anything but thrilled in that half-second it took for the boy to rise up then down.

Dirk's just some lonely kid. Saw shouldn't have let him do that. Before he opens the door to his car he glances up at the window of the apartment. It's way the fuck up there. Top floor because Dave pays for it. He stares for some seconds before shaking his head at himself. What a dumbass move, letting Dave Strider's kid get friendly with you because he doesn't know anything better. Anyone got wind of this and it'd be the end of his career. Definitely the end of his friendship with Dave. He gets into the car and tries to perish the thought as he drives home, this dark cloud of reasoning following him the entire way.

Back in the apartment, Dirk's bursting inside. He immediately jumps onto his computer, opens his chat client and looks for Roxy. 

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 18:05  
TT: Hey, I'm back.  
TG: your back  
TG: so  
TT: That was actually some pretty stellar advice.  
TG: wich part  
TT: The part where you suggested some provocation.  
TT: Inane as it felt, he seemed to be checking me out.  
TG: omggggg lol told u  
TG: tust my feminint wiles di-stri  
TT: I'll place all my further, expansive tust in you.  
TG: so did you get so some kind a base or wat  
TT: I delivered a kiss on the cheek as he left.  
TG: lame  
TG: id a gotten all up ins whatre u waitning for  
TT: Not sure.  
TG: SIGN  
TG: ne weys ill keep givign u pointrs since chicks have some primal fuckin instinct as to what dudes be cravign  
TG: wich like u should already kno about  
TG: bein a dufe and all  
TG: but ur also kind of a cluesless goats asshoel about a lod of this stuff so  
TT: Thanks.  
TT: That wasn't a sarcastic "thanks," by the way.  
TG: i kno  
TT: I think I'm gonna head off though. Sleep well whenever you conk out.  
TG: nite  
TG: bet ur gonna blow ur upcomping load to the memory of smoochin that chizeled gangstas face huh  
TT: Jesus Christ.  
TG: ;3  
TT: Good night.  
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

He's grinning a little and he's embarrassed at the same time. She's right, sort of. When he jerks off later it'll inevitably be about Sawtooth and kissing him will only be the half of it. Saw didn't shove him away. He didn't even say anything. Dirk must have shocked him. He feels accomplished by this development and he starts getting ready for a bed he knows he probably won't be able to sleep in. His mind's already buzzing with future scenarios, future things to do.

They'll be boyfriends. Dirk will finally have a boyfriend and he knows Dave can't know so it'll be their little secret. The prospect of such a thing to a kid so cut off from society is nothing but exciting and he can't wait for their next visit.

He'll probably text Saw tomorrow. He'll force himself to wait until the late afternoon, at least, so he doesn't look desperate. He'll ask him to come over again soon and then he can test more waters.

Dirk lies down, grabbing one of the puppets he usually sleeps close to. His hand rests upon it as he thinks about Sawtooth. Sean. For whatever reason, he doesn't feel the need to cuddle with anything tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Dirk wakes up in the morning to one messed-up bed. His covers are all over the place and his pillow's on the floor. Must have had some interesting dreams. He doesn't remember them as he brings a palm to his bleary eyes, squinting in the sun. It's 11:38 according to the clock on his computer desk. Dirk always sleeps late because he has no schedule. Homeschooling at the Strider household is anarchy. Dave's stopped caring about it because he thinks Dirk's intelligent enough to pass the tests that come in on occasion, and Dirk always does. The kid teaches himself.

He takes his time waking up. Lies there for maybe a half hour before he finally rises. Dirk's never been a morning person, but thinking about Saw and what happened last night makes him a little more chipper than usual.

He finds Dave in the living room. Aside from the muted spark of excitement that his brother's home, part of him is struck with the fear that maybe somehow he knows. He knows that Sawtooth received a kiss last night because maybe Sawtooth texted Dave and told him what a ridiculous homo his brother was. But Dave doesn't even look up when his brother enters. He's on his Macbook and sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup. 

"Fun week?" Dirk asks as he heads for the kitchen. There's some leftover food from what Saw brought over last night so he can't be irritated at the lack of cereal milk. Dave looks up when he sees Dirk picking through the boxes at the counter. He doesn't answer the mostly rhetorical question, instead asking one himself. "Was Sean here yesterday? Or the other night?" 

Dirk freezes for half a second. "Yeah," he replies, trying to sound nonchalant. His gaze shifts to his brother. Dave looks so tired. With this shades off it's not just the gray-purple circles under his eyes, it's the dull redness that frames them. The blank expression as he blinks at Dirk. He's rail-thin, almost gaunt-looking these days, bright blonde sideburns framing an angular face.

"Nice," Dave says before turning back to his laptop. "He tell you 'bout his new record deal?" Dirk knew about it. He nods. A lot of mainstream labels try to lure the wordsmith in, but Saw consistently rejects everything that implies they'd want him to censor himself or alter his lyrics. That's most labels. But he's found one more less-known, one that wasn't signing away his creativity with his signature and it's a raise from his previous one. It'd been one of the few things Dirk had seen the man get pretty stoked about. He remembers everything about that conversation.

But his and Dave's communication ends as abruptly as it started. Dirk stands at the counter for about a minute in case his brother has anything else to say. Dave's busy typing so he picks up the box and takes it to his room. He figures Dave will be gone in a couple of hours at most. Gone for another week and there'll be nothing but stack of hundred-dollar bills left for Dirk on the table.

Once he's in his room, Dirk closes the door. He reaches for his iPhone on the bed and goes through his contact list. Stops on Sean, as he's listed. Has to think of some clever way to spell out how much he wants to see him without conveying any of the intensity of that desire. 

He decides to keep his text message short and sweet.

` **- Dr. Strangelove is on Netflix. Another one of Kubrick's I think you'd appreciate. We should watch it.** `

In Houston's hip-hop scene, he's known as an artist who eschews conventional raps about his own masculinity or the legions of girls after his dick. Sure, every dog in the fight has to have at least one song that intimidates, that asserts their dominance. But Sawtooth is generally better known for his existentialism. Lyrics that take a harsh perspective on daily urban life, American culture and personal struggles - along with the occasional, ironically shallow track he puts out. 

He's sitting at his kitchen table and trying to write a song but the verses won't come. All he can think about right now is the text message Dirk's just sent him. It's the simplest message. A request for him to come over because he wants to show him more movies by this director. Growing up around cinematic stardom, Dirk has some pretty elitist taste. He isn't much of a movie fan and his top five favorites are constants. Him summoning Saw over like this means it has to be special to him.

That's what runs through Sawtooth's mind. Dirk wants this enough to text him and Dirk is so starved for attention and he feels bad. He feels obligated to give the kid some company. It's no bother to him.

But eating at him since last night is the memory of when Dirk put his lips on his cheek. It'd been fast and over immediately and yet it's like he has a broken nose. It's aching and it takes up all his concentration. The thought just won't fucking perish. He's been trying to come up with a logical explanation for what Dirk did last night. So far he's got weak ideas. The idea that maybe Dirk simply doesn't understand the implications is weak. Saw's seen the kind of borderline-creepy shit he displays as some sort of screensaver for his plasma TV. It indicates that he can't be that much of a prude. 

Sawtooth pushes away from the table and stands up, heading for the balcony. He always chainsmokes when he's writing but he has the courtesy to step outside. Squarewave has a lot of allergies.

He lights up his fifth cigarette in twenty minutes and leans over the iron railing, looking down into the street. It's always busy and he usually likes to people-watch, but his eyes aren't focusing on anything. He's thinking. A hand slides into his pocket and takes out his phone once more. His eyes flick over the text again.

Sawtooth stares at it for minutes.

` **- what time?** `

Dirk's preparing again. He spends extra time on his hair. He rifles through his brother's collection of body spray. Again, he feels like he's getting ready for a date.

It's kind of what this is. Inviting a guy over to watch a movie. Generally when Saw shows up on his own accord, they'll just play video games or Dirk will try to get him to help put a robot together or Saw will try to show him the rules of blackjack. But this is somehow a little romantic. Prior to getting ready he'd informed Roxy of the impromptu meeting but he hadn't asked for any advice this time. This time, he wants to try his own strategy. 

Roxy was sure to deliver some parting advice in that he should put on "taht one mad gay one w the hate on it". A tank top with a hat Dirk had screen-printed on it himself, mainly because at the time he'd thought it had been wicked irony. Now he thinks it's nothing but lame, but he sports it every once in a while for some sort of doubled irony. Mainly when he gets on webcam with Roxy. Just to make her laugh.

There's a lack of anything to do in the apartment that isn't electronic. Once Dirk gets as prepared as he'll ever be he returns to his computer but he remains off Pesterchum. Instead, he tries to distract himself with half-finished lyric sheets he's been working on in Word. Personal little poems he's trying to turn into something harder, something he can post later on a rap forum for critique.

Sawtooth decides to get changed. The hoodie and the sweatpants are switched for something more presentable. Squarewave's out somewhere so he doesn't have to bother coming up with a fake reason as to why he's heading out. He's grabbing his pack of Newports when he remembers what Dirk said to him last night - "You should quit". He considers not bringing them. Then he decides he'll have one on the way to the apartment and try to ignore the urge for more when he's there. Only the kid could get him to curb that addiction.

Saw doesn't get anxious. He's got nerves crafted from steel and it takes a lot to make him flinch. But as he gets into his car, as he drives, he's nothing but apprehensive. 

What gnaws his conscience is his own reaction to when Dirk had kissed him. He hadn't shoved the boy away like someone would if they hadn't liked it. Sawtooth had been surprised, but not unaware. Not stunned enough that he couldn't have backed off and told Dirk never to do that again. Part of him had enjoyed the brief yet intimate contact. 

Maybe he's the lonely one. It's true he hasn't had a girlfriend in years. Saw finds himself bored with the superficiality of nearly everyone he's met in recent years and the only girls he'd date are either currently with someone else or choosing not to settle down. And of course, a fair amount of them aren't interested in men. 

In a scene, his career's scene, where a partner is a status symbol, Sawtooth's been alone and dully self-aware of the fact. Hell, even Squarewave has a girl - one drawn in by his retro, nerd-chic style that hipsters flock to but Saw knows it's done in earnest. The guy will never be a chart-topping rapper but Youtube will always love him. 

Saw tries to snuff the thoughts out like the lit cigarette he tosses into the oxygen-free trash compartment of his car. He's smoked it so fast that it's already to the filter and he doesn't even remember lighting it up. 

It doesn't take long for Sawtooth to arrive. Dirk hears the familiar knock. He jumps from his seat and starts to walk out of his room. "It's unlocked," he calls loudly from the hallway, prompting his guest to open the door and let himself in. 

As soon as Dirk sees Saw his eyes are drawn to his shirt. It's a black polo with red and white accents, the Converse logo in the middle. Dirk has good memories attached to that shirt. It's the same one saw wore when he took Dirk to a water park a few years ago. 

It had been at least a hundred degrees out and even hotter in the high-rise. The AC had been broken and repairs weren't coming until the next day. Sawtooth had come at the beckon of a text message like some gangster angel to deliver him from Hell. They'd driven to a crowded park but Dirk hadn't minded the controlled chaos. He hadn't minded all the stares he drew when he took off his shirt, his skin so white he almost glowed in the sear of the sun. In fact, Dirk had barely paid attention to anyone, only sparing Saw a glance every once in a while as the man sat away from the water under a covered area. 

He'd tried to get Saw to come into the water with him but the guy hadn't brought any other clothes. Afterward they'd gotten ice cream that had melted too fast to be eaten and then Sawtooth had spent the rest of the daylight outside with him until it had gotten dark, dark enough for Dirk to stay in the high-rise without his insides cooking themselves. Dirk had been nothing but grins all day, a nice shift from his usually muted expression even at that age.

The same muted expression that falls on Sawtooth now. Dirk's eyes go to his mouth, looking at the toothpick that pokes out from one side.

"Oral fixation?" Dirk asks as he approaches. Saw plucks it out for a second. "Cigarette deterrent." He gets to exercise his vocab around Dirk because Dirk doesn't play dumb. He knows what he means. 

"Cool." The kid steps close to him and shuts the door for him, then he leans in and wraps his arms around his body.

Saw stands very still. He's used to Dirk hugging him; it's what the boy often does when he leaves. But it's different now. Not just because of what happened the night before, but the way Dirk presses his body into him, the way he rests his face against his chest, the way his fingers curl into the material of the back of his shirt.

They're both motionless for seconds that seem longer than they actually are until Sawtooth places his hand on Dirk's back. It's a light touch that signals he wants the hug to be over but Dirk likes the way it feels. He glances up and pulls away simultaneously. "Are you hungry?"

Saw isn't hungry and he doesn't want to lower the Strider's lacking food resources any further. "Naw," he replies, turning toward the TV. It's still sunny outside, filtering in through the high windows, so he doesn't bother removing his shades. "I'll get the movie ready."

"Okay," Dirk replies, excitement rising in his chest. "I'll be right back." He needs to check himself in the mirror one more time and he needs to think about what he wants to say to Saw just a little bit more. As he steps into the bathroom he can't feel anything but elation. None of it shows in his face, still as disaffected as ever, but his eyes are lit up. Good thing he has his shades on.

Saw navigates the screen to find the movie Dirk has on queue. He's never heard of it. He takes a seat on the couch and bites at his toothpick as he waits for Dirk to come back out, trying to keep his mind clear, trying to focus on the still images on the screen.

Dirk returns, his jeans as tight as they were yesterday, denim-friction noise as he walks in and sits near Saw but not too close. "All right, you'll think this is tight, too. It's sixties war satire. Pretty bleak subject material, yet masterfully sardonic." Sawtooth turns to glance at Dirk. "I'ma trust your judgment. Must be good if you like it."

The compliment makes Dirk visibly perk up. It's the validation, the attention he always craves from Dave but rarely gets. Saw supplies it. He's managed to pry another little smirk out of the kid.

"Kubrick's worth my praise, what can I say. I'm a discernin' critic but he hasn't ever made a bad movie." 

He's talking because he's a little embarrassed by the way that compliment affected him, Saw can tell. 

Everything goes smoothly for awhile. It's just them watching another movie together. Dirk plays commentator once more, pointing things out to Saw, going into miniature tangents about grim subjects that Saw's all too happy to participate in. He thinks they're back to normal. Dirk will probably want to play some video games or cards after this and then Saw will go home and he can stop being haunted by the way the kid's lips felt as they pushed into his cheek. 

It's thirty minutes into the movie, after a long stretch of silence between them, each tuned in to what's going on when Dirk turns to look at Saw. Dirk's been going over this in his head all day. He knows exactly how he's going to phrase it but it seems hard to get off his tongue.

"Sean," he says, voice sudden. Saw looks at him. "Yeah." He's calm but wary. 

"Got a question for you. It's kinda personal, I guess, but I've been ruminating on it for awhile."

Sawtooth's silent at first. An eyebrow raises over his shades in question. "Personal" by Dirk's standards could mean a thousand different things, each bizarre or convoluted or awkward in their own way, and he's not entirely sure he wants to give the kid the go-ahead. But he doesn't say no. He simply waits for Dirk to spit it out.

Dirk rubs his face just once, looking like he's thinking hard. Looking mildly troubled. Dirk's a kid who likes to appear collected at all times, so a face lightly knotted in concentration might mean this is pretty serious. "What's your..." A pause and Saw can tell Dirk's forcing himself to avoid saying "uh". 

"... Sexual designation? If you conform to those standards. I mean, I sort of ditched the labeling bullshit awhile ago, but I've been wondering." Wondering about himself or Saw, Dirk doesn't specify.

Sawtooth doesn't respond right away. His face is blank and unreadable, to Dirk's chagrin. He can't tell what the man is thinking. What he does know is that Sawtooth is a guy who doesn't give a shit. He's never used a homophobic slur in his life but he's always been so private about his own love life. Dirk knows he's just fifteen, but he wants to be trusted, wants to be privy to something like this. Not to mention his own curiosity about the subject.

"Uhhh," comes the first reply. Saw's stalling, grinding the toothpick around in his mouth. It's a good question because he's not sure himself. Having had sex with both men and women - the latter more often - he can't say he's exclusively set on one gender. The hypermasculinity of the rap scene encourages females, but Saw's never been one to subscribe to any of those stereotypes.

It just feels strange to talk about with Dirk. Not simply because it's Dirk but because Saw never discusses this sort of thing in the first place. And yet it's easy to remember his own curiosity at Dirk's age. Adolescence can be the worst time of anyone's life and part of it is the uncertainty, the struggle to find identity. He remembers his own so it wouldn't make sense to turn this into a big deal. To avoid the subject. Saw has no reason to hide any of this shit.

Dirk's just staring at him. He won't take his eyes off him. 

"I don't know," Saw finally says. Despite the lack of a definite answer, the way he says it is so steady and direct that it's like he's practiced. Dirk loves the way Sawtooth talks. "If you're havin' some kind of identity crisis, that's pretty much par for the course. Think most people don't know. Even if they've screwed around with both, it's hard to tell." Saw wants to turn the conversation toward Dirk because he's hoping that Dirk is mostly wanting to delve into his own issues.

Dirk tilts his head. "So you've experienced both genders? What's it like?"

Saw's got one hand resting on the arm of the couch and he taps his index finger against it once. The conversation's putting him on edge and he's not really sure why. "What're you asking?" he replies, eyes on the screen. It's black and white and some guy's addressing a war room.

The kid seems to think on his reply. He's still turned toward Saw and when he speaks again he sounds a little embarrassed, voice quiet. Dirk's never liked exposing any sort of vulnerability. "... I'm asking what it feels like to have a concomitant."

Sawtooth has no idea what that word means, and especially not in that context because Dirk's probably using it wrong, but he can use inference. Dirk's basically asking him what it's like to have a partner. To be in love. The man would smirk if the subject seemed less serious, because fuck if he's loved everyone he's ever slept with.

"Totally subjective, kiddo," Saw says, leaning back deeper into the couch. "I can't tell you how that feels." 

Dirk edges closer to him. He's on his knees and he shuffles toward Saw on the couch nice and slow. This is it. 

"Can you show me?" 

Before Saw gets the chance to turn back toward him and formulate a reply he feels the kid crawling into his lap. Half-way, at least. Dirk's knee plants itself between his legs, pressing into the couch. He's still sitting up but he quickly lowers his body, sort of sitting on Saw's leg. 

And Sawtooth's too fucking shocked to say anything. To do anything. He's shocked by the boldness, the way Dirk's staring at him so intently, the way his young body feels pressed against him like that. Dirk's heart is hammering away in his ribcage, his pulse so heavy he's sure that Saw can feel it. He's just as stunned at his own actions, the way they play out and Dirk's never seen himself as a guy who'd do something like this. Certainly never with this confidence.

But Saw isn't shoving him off. He isn't telling him to stop. It's working out perfectly. 

Dirk's afraid that if he stays still for too long the moment will break like glass so he leans in. He's quick. He presses a kiss to the side of Sawtooth's mouth, just missing his lips. He holds his mouth to the warm skin, his ear feeling light beats of breath at the man exhales. After drawn-out seconds Dirk moves to press their lips together. Soft as a feather and almost demure. 

His mind's blank but he's feeling a lot. A cacophony of emotion's swelling in his chest in this moment, sharing this sort of intimacy with a man he's had this growing crush on for years. This is a hundred wet dreams come to life, a hundred hackneyed boyfriend fantasies materializing. Dirk's never been in love or had anything remotely similar to a partner but now it's right here in front of him. He's straddling his leg and feeling his body heat.

Still there's nothing from Sawtooth. Dirk can feel tension in him. He notices how he's frozen now, a living statue, his eyes unseen behind those dark shades. Dirk takes it as a cue to do more. His hand reaches up to place itself against Saw's chest and the other reaches up to gently grab the toothpick and slide it out of his mouth. There's a small grin quirking up one corner of his mouth because Saw's been chewing that thing so he doesn't want to smoke. The fact that there's someone who listens to him that intently, who remembers a simple request not to smoke because it's unhealthy, that's what makes Dirk smile now. It's love. 

"Kid..." Sawtooth suddenly says, his voice so low Dirk can barely hear it. So unsure that Dirk barely recognizes it as coming from this incredibly strong person. He pauses for just a second, waiting for Saw to say more. When he doesn't, Dirk snatches his mouth up again. This one's harder, a little more enthusiastic. Dirk kisses him more than a few times, his lips forming motions normally reserved for his pillow or a puppet or something else filled with stuffing, something inanimate, something that has to play substitute for a real lover. Saw isn't kissing him back but he's not denying him either.

Dirk kisses him closed-mouth like that for more seconds. His heart rate's rising exponentially and he breathes out the softest little moan against Saw's lips. Dirk's already thinking of sex. Thinking about how it will feel for Sawtooth to lay him down on the couch and wondering if it will hurt when he fucks him. He's getting excited at the prospect of losing his virginity and especially to Saw, teenage hormones flooding his system until it's the only thing on his mind. Experimentally he slips his tongue out, licking gently at the bottom lip, fingers tightening as they grab at the fabric of Saw's shirt. 

"Hey--" comes a sudden voice, harder, authoritative. Dirk freezes. He feels Sawtooth clap a hand on his shoulder. "No." 

And Dirk's veins turn to ice. He's instantly humiliated. He can see the subdued anger in Saw's face, see the way he turns it down. Sawtooth shoves at Dirk, gentle but firm and he doesn't need to do it twice. Dirk pulls away. He backs up off him, standing. 

There's a pause like a concrete wall between them. Saw's still for some seconds before he stands up too. Dirk's afraid to look at him but afraid to look away, so he just keeps his eyes on him. There's a choking sort of heaviness in his throat, a lump he can't swallow. Any sort of excitement he had is completely gone, a candle blown out in a gust. He feels like he's been abruptly gutted.

Sawtooth's silent and motionless for some seconds longer. Dirk stays silent, too, waiting for him to say something first. It's unbearable, the lack of anything.

"... Kid, I know you're confused, but that shit ain't gonna fly." Saw finally speaks and again it sounds like something he's rehearsed. Dirk can imagine he churned the words over in his head a few times before he said it. He thought about exactly what he was going to say and how he'd say it. He also notices the way Saw's fists are clenching, flexing. He looks so tense in contrast to his calm words. It's painful to stand there with all the pressure in the air.

But Dirk isn't confused. He knows what he wants and it's the man standing in front of him, but he keeps his mouth shut. He's never interrupted Sawtooth. 

"I'm not pissed at you. But I don't want you to do that again." Saw's done. He's said his piece and Dirk knows because he's looking at Dirk now. Even if Dirk can't see his eyes he knows he's looking. And despite his words, he's thinking about how long it took for Saw to push him off. The way he seemed so hesitant. It can't be true.

A smart boy can figure it out. "Because it's illegal, right? Statutory rape. I'm aware of the ramifications." Dirk turns his gaze to a wall behind Saw. "Sorry. That was my bad. Didn't mean to put you in a weird spot." His voice doesn't betray his nerves at all. Dirk's an expert at keeping his voice stable. He can't hide the fact that his body's mirroring Saw's tension right now, but they can both pretend.

The worst part for Sawtooth is that he can't say he wanted to reject the kid. Not at first. He's just as aware of his own pause. Again, he didn't shove Dirk away immediately. Again, he made him think it was okay. 

Was it okay?

Saw shakes his head once. He can't stay here. This is too much for him at once and it's a hundred times heavier than a simple unexpected kiss on the cheek. This is serious shit. It could be leading to even more serious shit, something he could lose his career and his reputation over. A fucking fifteen-year-old coming onto him and he just lets it happen? Nobody would take his side if they found out.

"Think I better go." He watches Dirk's face fall and feels even more terrible, even more conflicted. But Sawtooth doesn't elaborate. He doesn't need to explain why he suddenly wants to leave. Dirk knows why but he doesn't want him to go. Still, he nods at him. "Sure."

Saw glances at the TV screen before he turns around and heads toward the door. He leaves the apartment without saying goodbye. He's itching for a cigarette and he grabs for his pack immediately as he gets in the car. Might just burn up the entire thing on the drive home. There's a ball of anxiety in his stomach that he's sure a man without guilt wouldn't have to deal with. A man without guilt would probably still be in the apartment, having shrugged the incident off as a teenage mistake. Life would go on. Sawtooth's guilty because he fucking liked it. For a minute before his sense kicked in, he was liking the way Dirk kissed him. The way his lips had felt, experimental and unsure but wanting every second of it.

The idea makes him feel like utter shit. Dirk's still so young and Saw's supposed to be some sort of role model, some kind of surrogate brother for the kid because Dave's too busy to give him the real thing. This all feels like Saw's taking advantage of him because he's lonely himself. The fact that Dirk had initiated it doesn't matter. Part of that scares Sawtooth because he knows just how smart the boy is. He knows what consent is.

Disgusted at himself for thinking that, Saw drives with the radio off. He forgets to find a station because his mind's a complete blur the entire way home. 

Back at the high-rise Dirk isn't faring much better. He doesn't even turn the movie off. He lets Soviets rant at each other on the screen as he heads into his room, waking his computer from sleep mode. His cursor hovers over the Pesterchum logo, wanting to contact Roxy and spill on her.

It doesn't happen. He's never been one to whine at his friends, especially not these days. Dirk feels like his whole body's in a vice and if he were a normal person he might be on the verge of tears, but Striders don't do that. Crying about it will only make him feel worse, make him feel weak, so he rubs his fingers over his eyes and slowly starts to get over it.

Dirk stares blankly at the computer screen for some seconds before he rises again. He walks out into the living room and turns the TV off. Then he returns to his room and decides to simply go to bed. At least if he can get to sleep, he won't have to think about what just happened anymore. 

He isn't an idiot. Dirk is, as he said, very aware that he's considered a minor and Sean is an adult. He could ruin Sawtooth's name in the rap scene. He could destroy his career. If anyone found out about this shit it'd be over.

But he can't stop thinking about the way Sawtooth took some time before he shoved him off. Before he told him to stop. Dirk had felt that pause. He'd heard Saw's voice when he first addressed him and he'd heard the conflict in it.

Dirk had pushed anyway because he'd thought it would be reciprocated. Like maybe it'd work out against all odds just like in one of those shallow, banal piece of shit movies he hated, the kind the industry came out with in droves every year. Movies on the whole are fucking stupid, Dirk thinks as he settles against the pillow. He reaches for a plush rendition of one of his brother's ironic creations, squeezing it close. Nothing but a moving blinder, escapism for the masses because real life was harsh and complicated.

He begins forming an apology and he's thinking real hard on it because he doesn't want it to come off as forced at all. He can't wait for Saw to make the first move again but he can't think of anything just yet. That text will have to wait.

It's all hitting him like a freight train. He and Dave rarely fight, probably because Dave's so absent and Dirk's so undemanding. Online, Dirk's so unsocial that whatever happens between Roxy and his two other friends rarely affects him. A bystander without bias. The tricklings between those three never really reach him and Dirk keeps to himself off the computer enough that relationship problems aren't a thing. Aside from being awkwardly rejected by one of those three friends years ago, it's been a long road of nothing.

He's already exhausted.

Dirk feels like tomorrow has a really shitty morning in store for him. He shuts his eyes and buries his face against his pillow but his thoughts keep racing.


End file.
